


A Van Full of Testosterone. And Weapons.

by Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley)



Category: National Treasure (2004), Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: Crack, Crossover, M/M, Slashy, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-01
Updated: 2005-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinShelley/pseuds/Cousin%20Shelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a cracky crossover between Van Helsing and National Treasure, written for Xandri and filled with private jokes we had in 2005 that probably won't make much sense to anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Van Full of Testosterone. And Weapons.

Carl navigated by feel and followed Van Helsing up the metal ladder. Faint light showed a hole above them, and Carl would be glad to get away from the dampness and the smell. Though he had to admit, whatever waited above them might be even less desirable.

Van Helsing pulled himself up through the hole and immediately struck a defensive posture when he found himself staring at two men who were staring back at him with what he guessed were expressions matching his own. The two men in the small. . . room? seemed to have jerked apart as Van Helsing emerged--they must have been fighting and he startled them. Tojo quickly snapped out of his coat and in hand, ready to engage, Van Helsing eyed the men.

The blond took a tentative step toward him, a half-smile of surprise on his face, a strangely small firearm in his hand trained on Van Helsing. "What the--?"

"Ian, no! Just hang on a second," the other man said, as he grabbed the blonde's arm. Then he held his hands up in an entreating gesture and spoke to Van Helsing. "Just stay calm, okay. There's no need for your. . ." the man's eyebrows shot up and he cocked his head to the side as he smiled," . . . circular. . . saw." He laughed nervously, looking into Van Helsing's eyes, doing his best to appear friendly. "Just. . . chill." He continued to smile, but Ian's expression was grim as he looked back and forth from Van Helsing to the other man.

Van Helsing frowned in confusion. Why should he want to become cold? This was all Carl's fault. Time machine, past accelerator, future reversal. . . if only he'd let Carl test it alone like he'd wanted to. But then Carl would be here alone, and he didn't like that thought either. At least now Van Helsing could protect Carl while he worked to undo whatever damnable thing he did. First they would have to get away from these men intact.

"We. . . have no quarrel with you. If you'll kindly show us how to get out. . . "

Ian spat, "Us?"

The three of them looked at the hole, and the pale hand protruding from it, waving frantically, grabbing air, slapping the floor, as Carl tried to gain purchase to pull himself up. A voice came from beneath the hand.

"Yes, _us_ damn it _all_ to hell! Van Helsing, would you mind?"

Keeping an eye on the strange men, Van Helsing grabbed Carl's arm and helped him up.

Ian rubbed a hand over his forehead as he took in the sight of Carl. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Ben. . . ."

Ben looked at Ian and shrugged.

Carl, meanwhile, was walking in a circle looking at everything inside the strange little room. Touching things, craning his neck and looking above, dropping down and looking below. He approached the men on his path around and lost in curiosity he reached out and rubbed the material of Ian's jacket between thumb and forefinger. "What strange fabric!"

"Hey!" Ian jerked back and smacked Carl's hand. Carl rushed to Van Helsing's side, only to find his hand smacked again.

"Don't _touch_ him Carl, for the love of--how many times have I told you--"

"EXCUSE ME?" Ian waved the weapon in front of him. "Gun." He held it up for all to see. "So I get to talk now. Who the bloody hell are you people?"

"I'm Carl, and this is Van Helsing, and. . . ." Carl's eyes got wide as horrible sounds floated up through the opening in the floor. "And that. . . sounds like. . a w-werewolf! Van Helsing?"

Van Helsing moved so that he was between the opening and the strange men, pushing Carl behind him as he went. Carl ended up pressed between Van Helsing and Ian. Ian made a sound of protest, and then looked imploringly at Ben, who pulled Ian roughly toward him so that he wasn't pressed up against the stranger.

As the horrible crunching, moaning sound moved closer to the opening, Van Helsing pulled his other tojo and engaged them, ready to fight the werewolf the minute it popped up through the hole.

Velkan emerged, naked but for a somewhat shredded loincloth. He was sweaty and dirty and eating cookies with a wild look in his eyes.

"Om nom nom snort om nom nom," was all he said as he popped up and got as far away from the men as he could, pressing himself against the opposite wall, and inadvertently popping the van doors open. He ran, a trail of cookie crumbs following behind him.

Ian almost sobbed. "Jesus Christ." He leaned over and whispered in Ben's ear. "Mate, all I wanted was a quick shag and you said, hey, why not in the van in D.C. still parked outside the--"

"VELKAN!"

The scream echoed up through the hole and made all the men cringe. Van Helsing squeezed the tojos.

"Oh, hello Anna! How are you?" Carl called from behind Van Helsing, as the dark curly hair appeared.

"Fine, Carl. You?" She swung her mace in a wide arc. "Which way?"

"I'd be fantastic, if we weren't here. Just follow the crumbs, dear."

She nodded, gave her mace another twirl. "Thanks. Oh, Van Helsing, there's just too much testosterone in this. . . van." She said the word as if it was foreign to her. Which it was. "So the thing to do would be to kiss me. All these men pressed tightly together in a van--so there has to be a female love interest."

Van Helsing nodded reluctantly and stepped forward, ignoring Carl's hands clawing at his coat to hold him in place and his cries of "But there's absolutely NO chemistry. . . ."

Anna and Van Helsing smirked at each other, then suddenly their faces changed to looks of longing as they kissed, and Ian and Ben shook their heads and tried to comfort Carl who kept mumbling about lack of chemistry and contrived romance and how it just wasn't fair that she got to do that and all he got to do was get choked and later run at him with a pointy object that wasn't his--

"You know it always has to happen that way, mate." Ian patted his shoulder. Then he stared at his hand for a moment and shook his head. "What the hell am I doing?"

Ben straightened Carl's hood. "Trust me," he said quietly to Carl. "Means nothing." Then he exchanged a tense glance with Ian, who said, "I didn't see you explaining that to Abigail, Ben."

Before Ben could answer, Van Helsing and Anna finally pulled apart and regarded each other with disinterest once again. She jumped out of the back of the van and pushed a mounted police officer from his horse. As she rode away, swinging her mace, she shouted, "Those are my cookies, and I want them back!"

The police officer sat in a miserable huddle. "My horse! Bring back my Gregorio!"

Carl crossed his arms and looked coolly at Van Helsing. "We must go. If we're going to reverse this we have to get to the right location on time. . . and that lip rouge she rubbed onto you does not go with your eyes."

He jumped out of the back of the van and stood, back to all of the men, waiting on Van Helsing, who simply nodded at Ian and Ben and followed Carl.

The two stunned men watched as the strangers disappeared. Ian blinked several times, licked his lips and blinked some more, before slamming the van doors closed, and replacing the manhole cover, and then for good measure, he drove away.

"Ben, I think there's a church with hidden tunnels and catacombs and rickety walkways on which we might accidentally plunge to our deaths. Let's go there and shag instead."


End file.
